Ghost of Y'Lyntia
by Winged Monkey
Summary: Oneshot. The Lair was originally built by the Y'Lyntian, a mysterious, vanquished people. Yet one still remains, in a manner of speaking, and finds that even an afterlife can be perilous to one's health.


_A/N: Hello, again! Just a forewarning, this story is supposed to take place right before the episode "Bad Day" and holds several spoilers for it. Hope you enjoy it!_

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything other than the plot and my own charater (who you shall meet momentarily)**

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It is said among my people that death brings upon darkness and a coldness of mind and body. They say that everything is musty and has a faint scent of mint.

I can't say that I agree with them.

To me, death smells like an ambrosia made of strawberries covered with the sweetest of honeys. It's almost too sweet.

Also, it is not nearly as dark as they say.

Instead, my time passes much like it once did. I have stayed here in this stronghold to which I had fled the sinking of my island home all those centuries ago. I have watched as one by one, my comrades have passed on, unable to survive with the changes that have been made by the upper worlds, and yet have not joined me here in my solitude. I have watched as my home has fallen into disrepair and rubble. Then I watched as five creatures, looking like nothing more than the slaves some of my fellow Y'Lyntians created, found my hidden home and began to revive it.

At first, I was repulsed by them and what I felt was the desecration of my refuge. However, after watching them for these past several months, I have come to love these funny little green creatures and their funny little teacher. Now I know that my home is more alive with them here than it ever was when my physical body walked among these rooms.

I have watched their joy at their triumphs. I have watched their despair at their failures. I have watched as their bodies and spirits have grown.

It certainly is strange how close 'specter' is to 'spectator.'

Even though I have never left here, they do not even know that I exist. The one called Leonardo has almost found me in his explorations of the astral realm during his meditations, but each time I withdraw from that area. I do not want him to find me. Not yet. His master, this Splinter, is even worse. It is almost impossible to remain undetected while he is around.

I have spent much time in the workroom of the one called Donatello. Although I know he senses something, he is too skeptical to believe that something like me could be there. Even so, I love to see what he is doing. He, like I was in what seems like an eon ago, is fascinated with the crystals. And yet, his desired uses for them have always been so much more charitable than mine ever were. Because of this, I entered his mind to speak to him through dreams—but not once has he suspected my existence.

The other two, Raphael and Michelangelo respectively, have been fun to have here. What was originally an eternity of boredom has changed to a game as I tease them, flirting back and forth along the edge of their senses. Ever superstitious, Michelangelo long believed that something—me—haunted him. At first he was afraid, but I quelled his fears, letting him see me through dreams but not remember them when waking. Raphael, on the other hand, ignores me.

Even though I am no more than a disembodied soul, I still try to protect them. These four green creatures—turtles as they like to be called—are truly little more than children and their master is old and weak. I pray that they will never know of my plight.

Over the past several days, strange beings, strong beings, have tried to break into their minds while they are all meditating. The only reason I know this is because I am the only reason that these beings have not reached their objective yet. With each passing hour, I have sensed the malevolence and impatience building up exponentially. At last, they have decided to come after me instead.

No more shall I be only a spectator.

As I wait for their arrival, I sit up inside of the memory crystal, still hidden safely among the bricks lining the ceiling, and charge myself and my crystal amulet. Below I watch the new inhabitants of my home, creatures that I have begun to think of as my family, prepare for their daily meditation. From somewhere, as though existing only in peripheral vision, Darkness starts to creep in, like a thick smoke. I leap down between the meditaters and the darkness. No longer do I care whether or not they know of me.

The darkness forms into five beings, the like of which I had never seen before. Though short and stout and having heads that look like two straw hats—the kind worn by humans working rice paddies in the overworld's orient, but flatter and wider—placed on top of each other with only room for glowing eyes to be seen within the dark slits, they glow, radiating immense elemental power: fire, water, earth, metal, and air. Never before have I seen dark magic used is such a way.

"Specter, you have stood in our way for much too long. Move or you shall be destroyed."

I laugh—a foolish thing to say. Do they not realize that I am already dead?

"Trust us, spirit." Magic begins to spiral up the staff of the being of air. "You do not want to anger us further or your time on this earth shall come to a swift end."

I bridle at his words. "No," I retort, feeling my eyes grow cold as I clutched the amulet around my neck, "it is _you _who will be sorry for ever coming here."

Before I could act, a blast of frigid air tears at my long dress and whips violently through my hair, knocking me off balance for only a second, but that was all the time that they seem to need. I barely manage to avoid the blasts of magic that they shot at me. Again clutching my amulet, I whispered a charm and then hold it up. Thousands of small, needle-like crystals appear in mid-air and fly at the five intruders.

Dust swirls around them as my darts make impact.

Astonished, I gasp as the whirling dust clears. Not a single one of the magical beings have sustained so much as a scratch! The rocky one is holding his hand upright in front of him as though he was simply commanding my attack to stop before him; as it is, about half of my darts were suspended in mid air, now under his control. He bends his fingers forwards and my own weapons fly towards me.

As Michelangelo would have said, this afterlife was beginning to suck.

Grabbing my amulet as quickly as possible, I barely manage to raise an earthen barrier between myself and the projectiles. Even so, a few managed to pierce the dirt. There was the sensation of pain and then of something was tickling my arm. I carefully feel my wound, catching some of the blue liquid on my fingers. _It's blood, _my_ blood! How is this possible?_

Suddenly my barricade crumbles, revealing the earth being again holding out his hand and lowering it to the floor. Each of their staves are glowing with their magic. Multicolored lightning bolts shot towards me; I was unable to dodge them in time.

Tumbling backwards, I phase through Raphael and land on the other side of him. He shivers visibly, but then returns to his meditations. I have to remind myself that everything, even the parts of the floor that I now raise to protect myself, are not part of the real world. My dress is singed badly and torn in a few places. I lay still, panting for a few moments as I tried to catch my breath.

"You will pay for that, demons!"

"You have brought this on yourself, phantasm," the fiery one retorts, pointing his staff at me. "Now stand aside."

"No." My voice comes out in a growl. I did not know that I am capable of so much passionate emotion.

I again hold tightly to my amulet, praying to every deity that I have ever heard of that these intruders will not notice my actions. Maybe it is because of the distance or maybe their attacks have weakened me, but the crystalline needles that appear behind them are too few in number. As the rest of the beings point their staves at me, preparing for an attack, I will the needles to fly forwards. Instantly, they detect it and the wind creature blows away many of my weapons. However, to my delight, one gets through, ramming itself into the very being that thought he had blown them all away.

I smile widely, vindictively, as he screams in pain.

The distraction has given me enough time to run into a shadow, out of their sight, and create a crystal sword and shield. I sigh, tiredly. It has been a long time since I have fought anything and my strength is quickly diminishing. And yet, I cannot give up. Several hundred years ago, I would have fought to the death to protect my home. Yet, must I really do the same during this afterlife? Glancing at the five meditaters, I know that the answer is yes. I am sure that these dark beings are after the lives of the turtles and their master, and I cannot allow such a thing to happen.

"Come out, coward," one of the beings screams in a raspy voice, obviously enraged. "We were going to allow you to continue in your pitiful existence, but you no longer have that option!"

Steeling myself, I step out into their sight, my sword clanking quietly, musically, against the shield. If I was not so preoccupied, I would have considered the sound to be beautiful.

"Get out of my home, foul beings!" I point my sword at them.

They laugh contemptuously. "Foolish child, do you truly believe that such a pitiful weapon could truly stop us? We are gods among mortals, more powerful than you could possibly imagine. No such _toy_ could do so much as scratch a single one of us."

"Let's see if that is truly the case."

I run towards them, using my shield to block the blast of fire sent towards me, thankful that heat has no effect on the crystals. Right before I can bring my sword down on the fire being's head, he disappears in front of my eyes in a puff of soot, then reappears behind me.

I am now surrounded by them.

Before I know what is happening, my entire body is wrenched with excruciating pain and I fall to the ground. My sword rolls out of my grasp, flickers, and then disappears. The world around me is also starting to flicker around the edges of my sight as the demon beings come closer.

"You were warned, specter." One prods me with the end of his staff, causing even more pain to shoot up my spine. "No more shall you trouble us."

They leave me and float towards the turtles and Splinter. I am helpless to do anything; I cannot even move. The flickering is becoming more intense and my vision flits between my home and a bright light. In a last moment, I find myself looking at the meditaters. They are holding perfectly still while the dark creatures float above them and magic swirls, tangibly, around.

"I'm sorry…my…family…"

All sight of my home is blocked out by the white light and I find myself standing, surrounded by my own people. I recognize one of the faces.

"Abba?"

"Welcome, Ni'alia," he says, walking towards me with open arms. "We have been waiting for you."

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_Please review! Flames will be used to warm my hands!_


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